


Deflatable Planet

by campylobacter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Humor, Team, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3663966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campylobacter/pseuds/campylobacter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam & Jack find this planet awkward in more ways than one, and Jonas's innocent questions aren't helping. (Inspired by a Michael Shanks tweet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deflatable Planet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colsamcarter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colsamcarter/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASH. I FINISHED THIS TODAY IN YOUR HONOR.
> 
> To haters: U MAD that Teal'c has actual dialog in this story? COME AT ME BRO.
> 
> Also, this fic might be too UST for Gen fans AND not shippy enough for Sam/Jack fans, so put on whatever goggles you wear while watching an episode.

Sam stepped through the event horizon and almost landed on her ass. No, really. The platform was too slippery to stand on and she would've fallen squarely on her butt if it hadn't been for a pair of hands behind her, catching her firmly by the shoulders.

By instinct, she balled her fists and extended her elbows, ready to bust out some sick ninja moves. "What the—"

"At ease, Carter." Jack's immediate whisper, close to her ear, didn't so much reassure her as it made her stomach do a familiar, funny flip.

Cautiously, she tried to stand and find traction on the slime-coated stone platform. "Ew. What _is_ this stuff? Sir."

"Beats me," he replied, still bracing her as she skated stiff-kneed to an area less slimy. "But... it's all over Jonas's pants."

She looked over toward the foot of the terraced platform, where Jonas rose to his feet with Teal'c's help. The seat of his olive-drab uniform was wet and coated with a humiliating amount of clear, white-ish slime. "Oh wow!" He winced, enthusiastically, in pain. "I've never hurt my tailbone before."

"The MALP gave no indication of this hazardous terrain," Teal'c observed as he wiped his hands on his slacks, curling his lip in disgust.

"The MALP gave no indication of how much this terrain stinks, either," Jack grumbled, slowly descending the slippery steps while balancing against his second-in-command.

"Actually, sir," she said, trying to remain upright as the colonel leaned into her shoulder, "during the briefing we discussed the presence of low levels of hydrogen sulfide in the air, due to swamp gas or possible industrial pollution."

"But no one said—" He snapped his mouth shut when she side-eyed him. Respectfully.

Sam recalled how Jack's eyes had glazed over during the pre-mission briefing when the numbers for toxicity tolerances had appeared on the projector screen… and wondered what he'd been daydreaming instead.

On second thought, it was too distracting to wonder.

Once all four of them were safely standing at the foot of the rostrum, Sam took a handheld gas detector from one of her pockets. "Hydrogen sulfide levels .52 parts per billion. Wow. That's up .09ppb from the reading the MALP sent before we went through the Gate."

"If that's _not_ poison-level," Jack said while covering his nose, "it's definitely I'm-gonna-hurl-level."

"If it ever reaches as high as 10.0 parts per million — not billion — we'd need eye protection," Jonas added, admiring the encroaching forest of furry, vomit-colored wetland trees dribbling stinky globs of slime with each gust of wind. "And breathing masks for anything higher."

"O'Neill, the wind coming from the west has increased." Teal'c pocketed the compass he'd consulted. "I believe it carries more of this foul odor from its source, perhaps the bayou." The amount of restraint in his tone indicated how much he didn't want to head west.

Sam avoided breathing as much of the dank, rotten air as possible while keeping an eye on the readout. After noticing a sudden spike in levels, she averaged the fluctuations, calculating the math in her head. "Sir, it's jumped to about 2.12ppm, give or take half a point."

"Yeah, no kidding," the colonel gagged. "I'm ten half-a-points ago from putting on this horror movie costume." He pulled a respirator hood halfway from his pack. Last time they'd worn the hoods was several years ago, in the chamber of nine dead Linvris. Not a pleasant memory. Jack had shown absolutely no hesitation in ordering the team to break out Level A protective gear once Daniel had tripped over a dead body, but now Sam began to suspect it had just as much to do with preventing nausea.

Teal'c calmly swatted away some tiny gnats buzzing around his face. "I find wearing such equipment restricts visibility and communications."

"Sure, but you can never be too prepar—"

"Hey gang, I found something," Jonas exclaimed. "Or… somebody?"

Sam looked to where Jonas was crouched, next to the DHD. "Body?" she asked. Just... great. Seeing corpses never got any easier.

"Perhaps its decomposition is contributing to the fetor." Teal'c knelt next to Jonas to examine and unearth whatever was partially buried in the mud.

"I don't know," Jonas said, "but it doesn't look completely human."

That was more than enough to put Jack on high alert. "Carter, cover the Gate. I'll cover this side."

"Yes sir!" Sam put away the detector, unclipped her P-90, and surveyed the surrounding vegetation. Every branch, leaf, and tendril swayed in the putrid wind and dripped goo. What could have produced enough viscous matter to cover every species of plant? In the distance, she heard squawking, like the calls of a flock of waterfowl.

A movement contrary to the wind's direction drew her gaze to something slowly crawling along a branch. A shoe-sized creature appeared to be licking bugs from the underside of leaves. Its skin was translucent, shiny and camouflaged in dull green speckles. Sort of cute, in a frog-like way. No teeth, thank god.

"The remains appear to be an intact but soiled synthetic skin," Teal'c announced, "empty of flesh and bone."

"And odorless," added Jonas.

"And...?" Jack asked, his tone anticipating an inevitable plot twist.

"Might've been some sort of artificial life form. Maybe Sam can help us figure it out?"

"I can take over Major Carter's position at the south side," Teal'c offered.

Sam glanced at the colonel, who was flicking a glob of goop from his sleeve.

"You read my mind, T." Jack gave a quick tilt of his head to Sam and a look that said, _I've got your back, but be careful._

She nodded back, then gave a final survey of the swampy terrain for anything which looked more threatening than dripping blobs or giant tree frogs. Her boots squelched into the porous, damp soil as she made her way to the gunge-coated DHD.

As Teal'c passed her, he said, "The skin appears to be cheaply manufactured, with visible crimped seams along the edges."

"That's odd," she replied. "Probably not Replicator technology…"

With old beaker tongs, Jonas gingerly lifted the wrinkled, flattened, pinkish-orange thing and showed her a muck-covered head with a painted yellow hairdo. "It's got a face."

A face she wasn't expecting to look cartoonishly like a woman with short blonde hair. "Oh... boy."

"Actually, it's more woman-like than boy-like…" Jonas indicated its deflated breasts. "There's a plug in the back, maybe for inflating it."

"Yeah, no kidding," Sam huffed. "Just bag it, Jonas."

The Kelownan looked innocently puzzled, poor guy. "Don't you want to inspe—"

"Nope. Pack it up." Sam rolled her eyes and walked toward the MALP. "I think we're done here." Of all the possible mass-produced garbage from Earth they could've found, this one topped the Fratboy Party Supply List.

"Carter?" Jack, noting the terseness of her order, lowered his gun and approached her.

"Sir, we came here in search of evidence that rogue NID operatives might have been here three years ago," Sam stated. "That thing's made in China. It's... vinyl. And inflatable."

"Wha…?" Jack narrowed his eyes and turned around to peer over the DHD.

"Colonel, I think it's supposed to be a life-sized clown doll!" Jonas held up its head. Garishly painted blue eyes stared vacantly above an obscene, wide-open mouth framed with bright red lips. "Except its funny clothes are gone; it's completely naked."

"Oh fer cr—" He recoiled with a half-turn and a cringe. Regaining his composure, he clipped his gun to its sling and brushed gnats from his face. "Bag it, just like Carter said. Let's blow this reeking popsicle stand."

"Like, with C4?" Jonas struggled to cram the filthy, goo-covered thing into a gallon-sized, clear zip-top bag.

"Not literally, Jonas. No one's gonna be blowing up— ACK." He winced at his unfortunate word choice. "Just dial the Gate."

"Will do, just as soon as I can get this biolubricant off my hands…"

"Bio _what_?" Jack looked mildly horrified.

"I shall dial," Teal'c declared as he tramped through the mud toward the DHD.

Sam tried to not think about _lube_ as as she wiped the stuff from her fingers after starting up the goo-coated MALP. She stepped back as its engine roared to life.

"What's that sound?" shouted Jack, looking skyward.

As though drawn to the noise of the MALP, a flock of winged creatures flew overhead from the direction of the bayou. Some landed in the upper branches, some in the underbrush. None seemed afraid of them. Sam got a close look at one in a nearby bush; it looked exactly like the giant tree frog she'd seen earlier, only with bright blue wings. As airborne giant frogs flew overhead, a rain of slime fell onto the Stargate, the MALP, and SG-1.

Of all times not to be wearing her cap…

A glance at Teal'c stoically enduring the bombardment of "biolubricant" on his bald head goaded Sam into action. With all due haste, she maneuvered the MALP into position to climb the rostrum — just as Teal'c engaged the wormhole.

The kawoosh burst forth into the slimy downpour, scaring off the flying frogs.

"Open, the iris!" radioed Jack as he sent the GDO code. "We're comin' in hot."

"I believe it is mating season for the local wildlife," Teal'c stated flatly.

"Wow, no kidding!" Jonas agreed, pulling his cap tighter on his head. "And I hope we figure out who or why someone would leave an inflatable naked clown lady in a swamp coated in biolube."

A sudden memory flashed through Sam's mind...

_"Maybourne, you are an idiot every day of the week, why couldn't you have just taken one day off?"_

_"That's insubordination, Major." The look on the man's face had REVENGE written all over it. Petty, spiteful, schoolboy revenge._

"Sir, the next time we see Harry Maybourne," she said, looking Jack straight in the eye, "I get first crack at him."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 2 tweets:
> 
>  
> 
> ["This could be US, but you play'in" by Michael Shanks](https://twitter.com/MichaelShanks/status/468211408501342208)
> 
>  
> 
> and
> 
> ["LOL 'SG-1 discovers a deflated inflatable sex doll next to a DHD on a remote planet' practically writes itself..."](https://twitter.com/campyspornshack/status/468392289816293376) in reply to Wen


End file.
